


this is the beat of my heart

by pikwanchu



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: M/M, i will add more characters/people as they start appearing ok
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-03-13 14:25:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13572444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pikwanchu/pseuds/pikwanchu
Summary: one shot collection.(also known as where i will start dumping all the stories i start but im too lazy to continue)(mostly do!ships, i will add them in the tags as i post them)1. you make the bass drop in my heart (DOTEN)2. please get a room (DOWIN)3. baby i just feel so right (DOTAE) (NSFW)4. oh sunshines (JOHNDOYU) (FLUFF!)5. petty pretty (DOWIN) (NSFW)6. this feeling, just as it is, just hold on (JOHNTEN)(IT GETS NSFW)





	1. you make the bass drop in my heart (doten)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> one of the rappers from the band that goes against doyoung's is soooooo annoying. so annoying. really. 
> 
> (he's also kinda cute)
> 
>  (doten- 1.1k words)
> 
>  

 

 

“Please, please, Doyoungie-hyung!”

“No.”

“Come on, just this once!”

“Do you really want the number of a raggy, egocentric, no talent rapper?”

“Yes!”

Doyoung stares at his guitarist –and friend- hard, before sighing. “Okay, you know what? Okay.”, he blows air through his nose in an annoyed fashion, “But you better put your soul on that guitar on the second round or else…!”

“Yes, yes! I’ll practice two hours… no, three hours every day! I swear! Until my fingers bleed!”

“Well, that may be too mu-“

Doyoung’s voice gets lost when a deep beat begins pounding and the lights of the stage next to him begin shining in reds and greens, tinting it all. He can’t help but to stare; the MC told the audience to give it up for TY10, and the two guys walk in the stage, all dramatic and hidden under their hoods. There’s an element of solemnity that reminds Doyoung of something very dark, like the rituals he’s seen in scary movies.

The blonde’s eyes accidentally- accidentally? fall on the shortest one, on the way his body moves as the other delivers his lines flawlessly to the beat with presence and strength. He has to admit, they are hypnotic on their performance. He briefly wonders how long had they done this for, how come they aren’t signed yet, but his thoughts vanish as soon as the Thai’s voice begin blasting through the huge speakers.

Okay, wow.

Doyoung swallows hard. Ten’s voice can be very smooth.

When they finish, the audience goes crazy –maybe a bit more than when his band performed? No, Doyoung, don’t stress beforehand. Hollers and constant screaming, both from girls and boys won’t stop resounding his ears, and they are still there when he sees him walk back backstage.

“Heyyy! You saw us, right?”, Ten smiles, his golden skin covered in small pearls of sweat.

A drop runs down from his cheekbone, almost teasingly, and it traces his jaw, finishing down his neck, before he reminds himself that _‘he’s competence, Doyoung. Competence_ ’, and he’s able to take his eyes off of it.

“Yeah…”, Doyoung mumbles, as he crosses his arms and looks to the side. He 0s not about to let him know how impressed he is. Not in a million years. Because…

“So, are you gonna say yes to dinner together now or nah?”, Ten smiles at him, and Doyoung, in opposition, glares, “Dinner and a movie? Dinner and… my place?”

Because of that.

Doyoung’s eyebrows flatten, unimpressed, but the brunette’s smile doesn’t even falter, not even a bit.

So, they were good.  So what? He had to accept his stupid proposals? He had to deal with his lame flirting and jokes? He had to want to feel those hips rolling against him, just like they do on stage, so slow and sharp that he could-…

       Umm. Uh. I mean…

Doyoung sighs, and is about to answer, when he feels a soft tug on the sleeve of his jacket, and he sees Jaehyun behind him, looking at him with pleading eyes. Right, he had promised him… Ugh, he wants to groan out loud.

“Okay.”

He sees Ten’s eyes go full moon size and he almost spits the water he’s drinking.

“What!?”, his smile grows twice its size, and if his eyes are moons, his smile turns into the Sun. “Really!?”

“Yep.”, he nods, “Dinner… You, me…  The rest of Neo Culture, and Taeyong and Mark.”

Doyoung sees Ten’s smile flattening. Huh, so much for a galaxy.

 

* * *

 

“I’ve got two parts of the universe right here… but I can turn it into one!”

Doyoung rolls his eyes, as he hears Jaehyun’s laugh in the background, and limits himself to just sip some of his soda.

“Ah, hyung, I thought you were really scary when I saw you on that stage, but you are so funny!”, the honey dripping from the younger guitarist’s voice was starting to make him sick.

“Me? You guys are the ones with a rock band.”

“Ah, but we are not scary…”

“I’ll be honest”, Mark, their DJ, interrupts, “I thought you guys were just… dorks dressed in black, but you guys are actually pretty chill.”, everyone laughs, even Doyoung,  even if he’s still trying to figure out if that was an insult or not. “And your sound is freaking good, too! Especially his voice!”

Okay, he doesn’t know if that is one, but he is going to take it as a compliment. His lips stretch into a pleased smile, but then, he feels a hand on his own, and his head whips.

      Oh right, he had forgotten _who_ he had sat next to him.

“Mark’s right, though, your voice is so good, Doyoungie…”, Ten’s voice is low, confident, as if he is telling him a secret. His fingers press slowly on the palm of his hand, as if he was giving him a massage, and he continues, “We could use some sexy vocals on our performances, you know? Just like yours.”

The blonde has to fight the urge to blush. Ten is so stupid.

“I don’t do backups, sorry.”, he says shortly, cutly, and tears his hand away from his grip.

Suddenly, a surge of pain shoots up his feet, and if he had been someone less wise –read, Jaehyun- he’d probably have yelled. He limits himself to shoot an angry glare at the source –again, read, Jaehyun-, who is staring back with wide eyes.

Right, he is supposed to be helping him.

“I’m joking.”, he says, after sighing, “Sure, we could do that sometime.”

And a bright, bright smile blooms in the lips of the short one. Brighter than the fluorescent lights on the roof above them. So bright that Doyoung has to look away because, wow, how can a stupid smile make his heart beat like that?

“That’s great!”, Ten chirps, but then, his brightness dims into something sleazier, “You know, I could also use some sexy vocals in my bed, so…”

Fast heartbeats cancelled.

“Ugh.”, Doyoung makes an annoyed face, and pushes his face away, “Don’t make me puke. It’ll be bad for my throat.”

But then, the rapper takes the hand on his face and lowers both in his grip. It’s not until they are hidden under the table that he dares intertwine the fingers.

“That’s not what you said yesterday.”, Ten whispers with a smirk in his face, big eyes squinting in tease.

Doyoung swallows, and his eyes immediately unglue from him and scan the rest of the table in panic, trying to find out if someone else was paying attention to them.

Doyoung really hates that he’s sort of maybe secretly dating Ten.

He’ll break up with him. Tomorrow, probably. Or maybe after the weekend. Maybe next month, so they can go on that one trip they have planned. Or after Ten’s birthday, so he won’t get all emo and depressed.

Doyoung’s eyes fall back to him, but he just doesn’t have it in him to glare.

(Maybe never.)

The younger looks around as well, and gives him a small peck under his jaw when he sees that no eyes are on them.

(Yeah, definitely never.)


	2. please get a room (dowin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> winwin likes how easily doyoung catches his drift. he also likes how easily its to annoy the rest of the room.
> 
>  
> 
> (dowin, 635 words)  
> (fluff pretty much)

They are currently sitting on the sofa. Well, sitting is a way of saying it, since the only ones actually sitting on it are Taeyong, Doyoung, Winwin and Mark. Oh, and Taeil, in the single couch. The rest… well, they do what they can.

On the big screen before them, bright characters are yelling in Japanese, since Taeyong has T.V. privileges today, and Taeyong having TV privileges means Yuta having TV privileges. The two are sitting on the floor, and Winwin can feel Yuta’s heavy back resting on his calves. Next to them, Chenle is looking with big, excited eyes, head resting on Haechan’s legs, while he’s resting on Mark’s, simiraliy to the Japanese one.

Winwin’s eyes are on the screen, yes, but they hold a bored dullness. To be honest, ninjas and yells weren’t very amusing for him, who is much more fond of drama and romance dramas.

He bites his lips, his eyes fall on the one next to him, and a slight smile plays on them, as he sees how the different colours on the screen play on his skin.

“Hyung”, he starts, and sees the other rise his eyebrows in recognition, although his unamused eyes don’t leave the screen. “Don’t kiss my cheek.”

This gains a quick look from the older towards him, before he mutters a soft, “Okay…?”

Winwin bites his lip, and tries again.

“Seriously. Don’t kiss it at all.”, he continues, “Not even one kiss.”

Doyoung throws another brief look, and this seems to be enough to make him catch on.

“Not even one?”

“Nope.”

Sicheng feels the hand that the older had resting on the back of the sofa falling on his shoulders, and he’s pressed closer to him. His other hand lands on his cheek, making him turn his head slightly to him. The younger has to fight the giggle that threatens to leave his lips.

“Really?”, there’s the hint of a smile on Doyoung’s lips as he gets closer, and Sicheng feels his breath on his ear, crawling to the back of his neck.

“Yes, really really.”, He nods, and his short hair gets messed against the older’s face.

In the distance, he hears Yuta groan. “Oh, no…”

“Not even like this?”

He feels quick, soft pecks being placed all over his cheekbone, trailing down his jaw, and back up again. Butterflies flutter inside him with each one, and his hand claws around Doyoung’s wrist, holding him there. He feels himself shrinking under the sensation, still trying to contain the giggles that try to escape from his lips.

“Yes! Not even like this!”, he manages, as the older continues. “You can’t kiss my neck either!”

“Guys, come on…”, Mark says next to him, but is quickly shut by a soft punch Haechan gives, followed by a ‘let people live, Mark-hyung.’.

He feels the older’s lips moving down, and they tickle him. He fake struggles against his lock, because it’s actually so soft that he knows he could chicken out of the game any time.

“Aaah, too bad.”, Doyoung says, between kisses, and Sicheng feels a chill running up and down him, making him let out a laugh. Doyoung starts leaving big, exaggerated kisses, making big ‘mwah’ noises on each one, trailing up and down his neck.

After some of them, Sicheng finally gathers air again to say, “Especially,”, he says, between laughs, “Especially, you can’t kiss my li-“

“Okay, okay. I get it. You guys are bored.”, Yuta finally interrupts, standing up. Both of them look up in fake innocence, “I’m changing the channel, okay? Stop that or take it somewhere else.”

“I was just telling him not to-“

Yuta shoots him an annoyed look that tells everyone what’s obvious. Nobody buys that crap.

“Get a room, for god’s sake.”


	3. baby i just feel so right (dotae)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the most pwp ive ever written im ashamed but not rly. the most context i can give yall is that dotae are boyfriends and uhhh taeyong runs a porn blog
> 
> Warnings: blowjob, facial, bottom!dy, dom!ty (but the nice type u know ty hes a nice guy) also daddy kink but like not that much
> 
> Additional warning: its been at least a year since i last wrote smut so im sorry

It's when Doyoung grinds his hips against him, long legs extending on either side of him, that Taeyong decides he can't keep going like this anymore.

He gives his lips one last kiss, lets his tongue lick into him one last time, before grabbing a fistful of copper hair and pulling him away, pulling him down.

Doyoung lets out a low, soft moan at the pain, and catches his drift easily, legs deperately tangling as he tries to get down the bed and kneels before it. Taeyong catches how his tongue swifts quickly over the swell of his lower lip, anticipating, and feels his dick pulse once again as he sits closer to the edge.

There's only their panting, as he shoves him against his crotch, hand still secure on his locks; he feels a surge of pleasure as he sees how his white hands shake and have trouble with his zipper, his sweet eyes focused only on the task. He looks almost innocent, like a child opening a present. Doyoung is just so fucking adorable.

Once he's finally freed, he lets his grip go off the younger and stokes himself once, twice, right in front of his nose, looking at him, letting him enjoy the show just for a bit, hips jutted foward, the rest of his weight held on his other arm behind him.

He smirks, because he sees the way Doyoung is squirming in his place, hands fidgeting, wanting, needing to do _something_ , Taeyong can't help to mock him.

"Anxious?"

" _Please_ ", the plead in his voice just drips need like honey and he just can't make him wait any longer. He's not a monster.

So his hand goes to his hair once again, firm, and it's endearing how his lips open instantly, cupid bow stretching thin.

He enters his mouth without warning, but Doyoung knows him well, so he swallows him in a bite.

His grip is strong as he bobs the younger's head on his length, ruthless, and he loves how relaxed he is, how docile he melts under his silent command in situations like this.

The only sound in the room are Doyoung's soft whines as he gets abused, and Taeyongs low grunts, half trapped on his throat, as he switches between fucking himself with his mouth and fucking his mouth with flowing, small thursts. Thisis the only way this can be done, this is the only way they've done this since they found out Doyoung's non existent gag reflex.

"Fuck-", he feels himself starting to stutter, erratic, and he looks down to see Doyoung's eyes fixed on him, looking at him with adoration like he's a god. He decides to go against Taeyong's pace, and struggles to get more of him on his own, and the older can't, anymore.

He licks his lips and pulls him away, finally sitting down in a better position. His dick is a rock, and he massages it with his other hand; his grip on the black hair relaxes, and his fingers trace his jawline up to his chin, where he stops to hold him in place. There's spit all over his lips, his chin, but he doesn't care.

Doyoung closes his eyes and scrunches his nose slightly and it's so cute, so cute that has Taeyong spilling white on him in an instant. He flinches as it lands, thick, and the ribbons dribble down his cheekbone, the bridge of his small nose. Some gets caught between his eyelashes, and it's so beautiful.

Taeyong stares in awe, licking his own lips again when it finally reaches Doyoungs swollen ones.

"Wait", he says, moving fast to the little table next to his bed, and his phone's camera is ready.

"Stay quiet for daddy, yeah? I'm gonna take some pics."

He grabs his chin again, and catches just as a big drop hangs from the edge of his top one, his lips look excelent all red and puffy and still shiny. Doyoung whines, embarrased, but he knows better than to move, to disobey.

Taeyong passes his thumb over it slowly, smearing it, and he snaps a few more pictures as he does it, and god, they look perfect. He thinks he might have an obsession with his boyfriend's lips.

"There", he puts his phone away, and finally takes some the wet wipes he keeps around for occasions like this.

Delicate now, he cups Doyoung's face, and starts cleaning him with them. He starts with his eyes and forehead, because he knows it bothers him the most, but the younger doesn't open his eyes yet, marveling in the sensation. Taeyong likes to clean him as much as he loves tainting him, he looks just so smitten between his fingers.

He finally finishes, and places a peck on his lips, just because he can resist them, and Doyoung opens his eyes.

Taeyong smiles at him, because he's also smitten with him, and Doyoung smiles back, as he stands up to sit next to him.

"Here," he takes his phone, going to the camera roll, "look. They came out really good."

Doyoung takes his phone, eyebrows twisting as he swipes through the pictures, face reddening just slightly.

"Oh my god. This is so embarrasing!", he whines.

Taeyong lets out a laugh.

"They arent embarrasing. They are pretty!"

Doyoung whines again, burying his face on Taeyong's shoulder. One of Taeyong's hands lands on his thigh, reassuring, gently kneeding him.

"You're not gonna post these on your blog, are you?"

"Well...", He says, looking at the pictures once again, so satisfied. "I mean, if you don't want to I won't."

Doyoung rubs his nose against him once again.

"They are really good, though."

"Really?"

"Mhmm."

Doyoung stays silent for a good second.

"You can't recognize my face on them, right?"

"Nope," he says and he doesn't lie. The pictures just catch three quarters of his lips, and part of his chin, aside from Taeyong's fingers holding him. "They are too close.

Doyoung sighs dramatically, because that's who he is, "Okay. You can post them."

Taeyong smiles, and leaves his phone back again.

"Now let daddy take care of you, yeah?"

Doyoung swallows, and his hair bounces back to its place as he nods fast, eyes suddenly eager and big.

Taeyong moves to the middle of the queen size, back against the headboard, legs opened and flexed in his black skinnys, waiting for him. Doyoung crawls to him and accomodates himself between them, until his clothed erection is barely touching his crotch.

Taeyong takes a second to admire the way Doyoung's long legs have to flex almost to the extreme when they are in that position, it makes him feel slightly powerful, the way he can mold him so easily, even when it's Doyoung who is the taller of the two. But it's also Doyoung who is delicate, very delicate between sheets (almost exclusively between them), and that makes him want to make him submit even more.

He runs his hand through his hair once, before reaching down and inside his loose jeans. His fingers start caressing everywhere, stimulating him over the cloth of his boxers, and Doyoung can't hold the moan that pours from his throat. Taeyong wants to look at him in the face, but it's impossible, since Doyoung is now hugged tight around his neck, moaning into his ear, grinding into his hand, and fuck, this is sexier than he calculated and he might be getting hard again.

He feels Doyoung's grip loosing, but before he does it himself, he sneaks inside the boxers and starts jacking him off properly, pumping slowly and hard, and the Doyoung's following moan is almost too loud for his eardrum.

His hips start moving, short and spasmic, trying to catch up as Taeyong's pace quickens and he feels his lips, open, barely touching his jaw, and he is- fuck, he needs to be inside him right now.

Suddenly, he lets go and Doyoung is so surprised that he doesn't even have time to fight back as he is pushed into the mattress. Taeyong is now on his knees, and his hands are firmly attached to the insides of each of the younger's thighs, massaging up and down, far and then dangerously close to his crotch. He bends, capturing his lips, biting and licking and pulling in a heated kiss.

"Can I?", He asks, giving his hands more intention, explaining with them what he means.

Doyoung moans again, because now Taeyong's hand is back on his dick, and he nods, _please's_  and _Taeyongie's_  dripping down and out of his mouth almost pathetically.

Taeyong parts away, frantically searching for the lube bottle all over his drawer. He finally finds it, cursing himself for allowing all that mess of papers and pills inside it, and goes back to the bed, only to find Doyoung facing down, ass propped up and already without pants, waiting for him. His white legs are accentuated by the black of his boxers, and Taeyong's mouth waters.

But he quickly comes back to his senses.

"No, turn around.", He commands, patting softly his buttcheek twice, but it's recieved by Doyoung playing along, pouting and shaking his head.

"No!", he says, eyebrows twisted, "I want it like this."

Taeyong had started taking a dislike to that position after a while ago. He didn't like to go too rough on Doyoung, just enough to bruise him a little but never mark him. And last time they had done it like this, with his face rubbing all against the cover, he had found a burn mark on Doyoungs cheek, right under his eye.

Doyoung thought nothing of it, of course, but Taeyong didnt like it a bit, and made a fuzz out of it, going as far as saying that they wouldnt do it like that again until they could afford expensive, softer covers.

Still, there was him, looking at him like he had betrayed him, his pretty eyes all squinted.

"Come on!", he insists, wriggling his ass a little, and it looks so adorable that Taeyong's dick twitches and decides for him.

Before he knows it, he is pulling Doyoung's boxers down and grabbing fistfuls of his ass, swallowing a hard breath, and Doyoung moans, pleased. He could never resist him.

He slaps it once, hard enough to leave red all over.

"So you're gonna be difficult for daddy today, hm?"

Doyoung whimpers, but says nothing.

"I guess I'll have to discipline you, then."

He licks his lips once again, and pours the lube slowly, very slowly, right in the beginning of his crack. As it falls down, he sees Doyoung shiver and twitch a little bit, product of the cold sensation, and it's so cute that he can't resist to bend down and nip at his left buttcheek, earning a yelp from him.

He blows air through his nose in a laugh, and begins working him open.

By the time he's about to add a third finger, Doyoung is a mess, fingers latching and unlatching from the covers, wrinkling it all, face rubbing from a side to the other, hair going in every direction.

"I'm ready. Please. Please, Taeyongie, I'm ready, just fuck me plea-"

"Who?", Taeyong suddenly pulls out, and now he's whining because of the emptiness, "Who are you calling?"

Doyoung sucks in one, two breaths and the tips of his ears turn a pretty, pretty pink.

"P-please daddy", there's hesitation in his voice, and Taeyong loves how embarrased he turns, because the word is tol foreign in his tongue, because this is almost verbal acceptation that yes, he is under him. "Please, please fuck me? Ple-", he is interrupted by his own moan, as he feels Taeyong entering him all at once, bottoming out, rough.

Doyoung's eyebrows curl together, blissful, and his mouth stays open even after the sound is gone, only to let more sounds come out easily in high bits, as the older thrusts into him _hard_ once, twice, thrice. He feels heavenly, so good all tight around him, and Taeyong can only throw his head back slightly as he moans curses.

Doyoung's elbows, the only thing holding him from crashing his entire face on the bed, finally give in, and he lands facing to the left. Taeyong thrusts in him once more, before he reaches behind him and swiftly passes him one of their pillows, that the younger readily accepts.

Taeyong bites his lip, waiting for him to accomodate, and once he makes sure his face is perfectly covered, he swallows and gets ready to change the pace.

Now his fingers are digging into Doyoungs hips, tight and slippery with sweat so he leaves bruises and he can complain to him for a week about them. He holds him firm and starts moving into him again, faster, faster, and he doesnt allow him to move his hips an inch, because he's in control now, once again.

Doyoung bites his lip, clenches his teeth, and finally, lets his mouth open as he falls into a continuous and loud pleasure hum . His eyes are big and lost and shiny, and the way his head and shoulders bob rhythmically under Taeyong's constant violent pushing could come straight out of his deepest wet dreams.

Taeyong reaches under and grabs a good hold of Doyoung's dick, still hard, and it makes Doyoung fall from whatever sex trance he was in, because it's so sensitive that he's suddenly begging and trashing all over again.

"Hnng, please, I'm gonna come, I'm gonna"

Taeyong of course, doesn't listen nor care, so he pumps and fucks into him, and even bends once again and bites his shoulder, and suddenly Doyoung is coming undone in one last moan in loads in his hand.

It doesn't take Taeyong more than one or two more thursts to finally come as well, grunting into Doyoung's ear and biting it, as he milks himself into him, filling him to the brim.

He falls to his side, chest rising up and down, as he waits for his heart to calm down.

Doyoung doesn't say it was amazing, but he instantly craddles himself between his arms, over his chest, and he feels his heart beating just as fast, his skin fresh with sweat. He feels him fitting his head under his, black fluffly hair (or what's left of it that isn't wet) tickling his jaw, sticking to his skin, making his nose itch a little but he doesn't care because he feels a sudden wave of affection hitting him like a monster truck.

Hetakes his hand to the younger's face, and starts stroking his cheek with the back of it.

"Welcome back", he says, softly, "I missed you."

Doyoung chuckles, imitating his volume.

"I just left for the weekend."

"Doesn't matter, still missed you.", he mumbles, and buries his face on the crown of his head. "Let me clean you up?"

Doyoung groans and turns to the other side, making the air in Taeyong's stomach leave him suddenly, making him cough some.

"Let's just nap for a little..."

Taeyong makes a face, "But we're dirt-"

"Sorry I cannot hear you I'm already napping."

"Doyoung."

The younger makes fake snoring sounds.

"You ass.", he says, but ends up closing his eyes, caressing the curve in Doyoung's lower back.

After some minutes, he speaks.

"You still love me, though."

"Oh, so you're awake? Move, we're going to the shower."

Doyoung groans.


	4. oh, sunshines (johndoyu)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's a quiet, relaxing, nice morning for johnny, until it's not.  
> (it gets nicer than before)
> 
> (johndoyu - 1.5k words)

It’s a quiet morning.

It’s very early, so early that he gets to see the way sun rays start to shyly filter inside the kitchen, the panels of the window making them form abstract shapes over everything they touch. He hears the cars go by, far away, and it’s almost lulling. It’s still too early for angry horns or sudden hard brakings, too.

It really is a quiet morning. Until it’s not.

Johnny is able to take just one more sip of his coffee, zoning out, before he hears light footsteps coming down the stairs, and he’s made come from it. He smiles through the cup even before he sees him, though, because those steps cant come from anyone else but Doyoung. When he finally sees him, he is wearing a pissy face; eyebrows frowned still in morning grumpiness.

"Good morning", he says in English, a bit of a song in his voice.

The other mumbles back something similar, before he goes and falls like a plank all over him, forehead against his collarbone, chest against his, legs somewhat tangled between each other. It makes Johnny stumble a little since most of his weight had been held against the counter, and he tries his best not to spill any of his coffee. Doyoung's hair tickles his jaw. His weight is kind of making the counter jab painfully at his butt.

But he can’t say he minds it at all. This version of Doyoung is rare, all cuddly and frowny like a kid, since it only appears early in the mornings when he’s still not fully up, or still not fully up to being up. In fact, it’s rare to see him awake in the mornings itself, since he usually prefers to sleep in up until last minute.

He raises his free hand to his hair to mess it slightly, affectionate, as he waits for his boyfriend to speak up.

"Hey", he finally whispers.

"Hmm?"

"You know Yuta?"

Johnny takes another sip, still massaging his scalp, "Yeah?"

"I think we should get rid of him."

Johnny lets out a laugh.

"I think you should have thought of that sooner, since we are two years in a relationship and all."

He props the younger up from his forehead, and he sees the slight pout in his lips ready to protest, when they both hear heavy, fast steps coming down the stairs. Doyoung turns to the noise, frowning again, and Yuta walks in all smiles and no sleep in his eyes.

"Hey!" he just says, as he straight up goes to the fridge. "Did Doyoungie already complain about me waking him up?"

"You pushed me off the bed!", Doyoung whines, and suddenly, he raises himself off of Johnny and walks towards the shortest, waving an accusatory finger.

Yuta hides a smirk, "You wouldn't wake up. I couldn't do anything else!"

Johnny watches, amused, as Yuta skillfully traps the youngest by the waist, and pushes him close to him.

Doyoung ends up grumbling over his shoulder, very much in the same position as he was when he was with Johnny, and Yuta looks at him knowingly over his bony shoulder. It’s funny, because he is significantly shorter than Johnny, and Doyoung is probably paining his neck in that position, yet he still chooses to stay there. Subtly adorable.

He feels his warmth against his naked chest. Doyoung’s cotton pajamas are soft, and on a different day, when neither of them would have things to do, Yuta would cuddle him the entire morning, making him his life sized teddy bear. On a Sunday, maybe. A Saturday, too, if it rained and football practice with his boys got cancelled.

Morning Doyoung is whiny and grumpy, and would never admit that just wants to be babied for just a bit.

Of course, neither Yuta nor Johnny would ever refuse to do so.

Yuta is pretty sure that Johnny would baby him all the time, if Doyoung only allowed them to. But morning Doyoung is almost the opposite of daytime Doyoung, who is nothing but responsible, professional and over all, naggy. Also a bit annoying, but don’t tell Johnny he said that.

The toaster makes a sound, and two toasts jump. Yuta takes one and prepares it, spreading jam all over it, and hands it to the boy over him, who starts munching it over his shoulder right away. He worries his hands on making a toast for himself, before letting one of them fall on Doyoung's butt, and pat it softly.

As he eats, Doyoung hears Johnny take the last sip of coffee. He knows it's his last sip because of the way he sighs contented at the end of it, and walks up to the counter where they are currently laying on.

Doyoung turns slightly and spies a little, getting a peek at how Yuta looks up at the older.

"Good morning to you too, by the way.", Johnny mumbles, and then, he's pressing his lips against Yuta's dark ones.

They fall into a bit of a lip lock, biting and nibbling on each other, like every morning, and Doyoung can't help to stare, a bit hypnotized. Yuta catches Johnny’s lower lip just for a second, playful, and Johnny smiles into it, before diving in again.

It's stupid, but seeing them kiss still does things to his tummy, even after two years of being together.

They finally part, and Doyoung looks away, afraid of getting caught, and he takes another bite of his toast.Suddenly, Yuta snorts.

Johnny throws him a questioning look, to what he replies:

"I can't believe Doyoung is getting hard."

Doyoung's eyes open big, and in a second, he’s off the older. "I'm not!"

Johnny coos at him, "Aw, you want a morning kiss too?"

"I think he wants a morning-"

Doyoung forces the last of his toast down his throat, and runs out of the kitchen, "I-I'll be late for class!"

Johnny and Yuta chuckle in unison, as they see him running up the stairs.

"So, what's the schedule today?", Johnny asks, as he cleans his mug and Yuta's butter knife.

Yuta groans, and hugs Johnny from behind. "Just afternoon classes and then I have this woman who wants to try personal training at, like, seven."

He passes his arms between Johnny's. His hands wander around until he finds the stream of water, and uses it to splash the older Johnny a bit, playfully, careful not to wet him too much. The older doesn't mind, though, so it kind of takes the fun of it, but it also makes him feel a bit warm in the heart zone. "You?"

"Today the boss gave me the day off, so, nothing."

"Aww, Doyoung gets home at nine today, I think. You'll get bored."

"Doesn't matter," Johnny shrugs, as he dries his hands on a towel, and Yuta sees himself forced to move away from him, "Expect homemade Chicago pizza when you arrive, then."

Yuta is about to reply, when the youngest comes down, running.

"I'm late, bye!"

"Hey, hey, hey, what about our kiss, huh?", Johnny calls. He knows, for a fact, that he is absolutely not in a rush. It’s actually about fourty minutes earlier than he usually gets up, but he’s probably still embarrassed about earlier.

The youngest stops on his tracks, and turns to them in a rush.

"Yeah, your teeth are clean now.”, Yuta demands. He’s always complaining about that one habit of Doyoung’s, refusing to kiss either of them or even talk to them close if he hasn’t brushed his teeth yet. Of course, this absolutely must come after he has his breakfast, since, according to him, toothpaste flavor alters breakfast’s flavor. This often leads to them, Johnny and Yuta, rarely getting morning kisses from him. “Come kiss your boyfriends, you ass!"

Doyoung huffs at him, glaring just for a second, before he hurries to try to leave a peck on Johnny's lips.

Try is the keyword, because the older grabs his face with both hands and pushes hard towards his own, making Doyoung whine in annoyance as his cheeks squish. Once he lets go, he goes to Yuta, who traps him pretty much like Johnny did, but he makes him actually respond to his kiss, being able to nip a little at his lower lip, before the younger is able to push himself away from him, and runs for the door.

"Expect Chicago pizza tonight!", Yuta calls, right before he's leaving.

"Great!"

And the younger finally leaves, banging the door.

Yuta yawns, and checks the clock on his phone.

“I’ll go get ready for my morning run.”, he says, “You should sleep in a little more.”

Johnny shakes his head, as he swipes his hand across the shorter’s hair, “I wanna catch up on Game of Thrones.”

Yuta nods, and turns away, stretching, “Alright, say hi to your dragons for me.”

Johnny laughs, before seeing him disappear into the stairs.

“I will!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hhhhhhhhh i really enjoyed writing these three together, i blame rem (@johndoism in twitter)  
> // m a y b e i l l w r i t e t h e m a g a i n///


	5. petty pretty (DOWIN) (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winwin gets pissed at a make up noona and he decides to hit two birds in one stone.
> 
> (I was in the dowin tag and I read someone was going off about dowin smut, and I remembered I had this around)
> 
> Warnings: blowjobs facial y'all know the drill

Doyoung should have suspected it. 

He should have suspected  _ something _ at least. His mind should have warned him as soon as he saw Sicheng:s steps going on the bathroom's direction, his fingers gripping firmly on his hand, as if he was going to escape, that perhaps he didn't just want  _ company  _ in the empty long halls of Music Show.

Doyoung honest to God stayed clueless, that is, until he saw his boyfriend dropping to his knees right in front of him, cornering him like that against the cold bathroom walls.

"No, wait -Fuck!", he says, but the younger’s skill fingers already undid the loose knot that had been holding the training pants to his hips.   
The younger's only reply is a giggle, as those big eyes shoot him an amused look.

It’s annoying, really, because even in his alarm and annoyance, his dick already goes half hard as soon as he sees Sicheng’s face on his crotch level.

Doyoung groans, battling in his mind between just giving in or trying to stop this before any other male idol decided they needed to go for a wee or check their fucking fringe, but the hand that was fondling his dick into full hardness is very, terribly distracting. 

Sicheng decides for him, as his underwear pools around his ankles. 

The younger takes a big breath, and his eyes only unglue from the size in front of him once he closes them to take it in his mouth. He flattens his tongue, and the surprised gasp his boyfriend gives as he lets him slide right into his throat gives him a rush of pleasure.

" Fuck, what...? "

Sicheng bobs his head once, twice, and Doyoung weights so nicely on his tongue, it fills his throat so well. It makes him remember how it feels inside of him instead, and his need grows. One of his hands goes to the sack, reddened in need of attention, and he hears the loud moan he gets in response.

His eyes flutter open for a second, and he catches Doyoung covering half of his face with one of those long hands of his, while the other holds for dear life on the lavatory closest to him. Sicheng feels other surge of pleasure and this time he lets out a big moan himself, moan that resonates on his vocal cords and makes the older’s knees weak for the slightest instant.

But this? This is not enough.

He blindly looks for his hand, and once he finds it he takes it to the back of his own head, he feels the digits tangling between his hair, clueless. Still holding on it, he shows what he wants as he pushes forward, and Doyoung’s dick meets the soft of his throat again. He repeats the motion once, twice, but to his annoyance, the older doesn't seem to catch on, either too lost in the pleasure or still too worried to cooperate.

However, it isn't until he tries to pull away to free his mouth to complain, that he suddenly feels those fingers closing on his reddish locks and forcing him back. Sicheng moans, this time for real, as he feels the older suddenly taking control.

Doyoung buckles his hips into him hard, holding him in place, and Sicheng feels his nose nuzzle the little pubic hair he has, pressing against it.

Both of his hands fall to his sides, glad that he doesn't have to do anything now, as he feels his boyfriend fucking into his mouth, hips moving sharply against him. He can now focus on the feeling of him, and he does, as he lets his tongue flicker on the slick skin, finding that vein of his that he loves feeling up, and presses on it, massaging it. 

This makes Doyoung thrust harder, almost hitting the little bell on his throat, making him gag just the slightest. Sicheng feels saliva dripping and falling down his chin in a thick line, and he moans once again, and it makes Doyoung give yet another hard thrust, one that hits just right, and as soon as he coughs it's like the older falls back into reality and lets go.

"Oh my god, are you okay?!"

Sicheng coughs, coughs, laughs, and coughs harder, because it's so funny how quick is Doyoung to start fussing. The younger nods and is quick to pull himself back together, afraid that he decides to lose the mood completely before he can even make him come

He can't allow that, his mission is not yet over.

Sicheng looks up at him, and his hand is once again on him, thumb teasing the head. He smiles, and his lips are reddened and swollen, his eyes are shiny, still teary from the coughing fit, and they still have that hint of mockery behind them.

"W-we need to go.", Doyoung informs, even though he knows he can't care less, " Someone might come in."

"So?", Sicheng replies, shoulders shrugging slightly, and his attention is back on the tip of his cock, placing small kisses, letting his tongue flicker slightly, teasing. Doyoung holds back a groan.

"You're evil.", he accuses, but it only works to make Sicheng smirk.

It's amazing to him, to Sicheng, because even if he's the one on his knees, the one doing all the work, the one getting their throat  _ abused _ , he feels so in control. He controls how his boyfriend moans, he controls how and when he comes.

It's satisfying.

"Fuck my mouth?", he simply asks, pumping up and down, slowly, and he knows he's driving Doyoung insane. Doyoung deliberates, as much as he can at least, and Sicheng uses the time to give a few sucks.

And they work, because his mouth falls open almost obediently as he feels the familiar grip on his hair. He loves how he grabs him.

Doyoung starts moving, shyly at first, giving Sicheng time to let his throat muscles relax, and he tries helping the movement by leaning forward. 

Soon, though, he finds himself unable, as cold fingers latch on the side of his neck and jaw, keeping him on his place, and the older turns more violent. Sicheng lets out a moan, followed almost instantly by a low muttered  _ fuck _ by Doyoung.

Sicheng swallows and as his muscles feel centimetre by centimetre his size, he feels the impeding need to get fucked against the wall, to be folded against the lavatories, to hear his own cries echoing the empty bathroom.   
But he knows they can't, their performance is in less than an hour. If he’s going to get fucked, he's going to get fucked thoroughly.   
Instead, he decides to tease some more, and the second he lets the tip of his teeth so much as skim the older’s delicate skin, it's like he feels himself the violent shiver that runs up his spine and makes Doyoung hit the back of his head with the white wall.   
Sicheng doesn't even have time to react to that, as he feels the dick starting to twitch inside his mouth, and now that he's distracted, he takes control back.   
But then, he feels the hand back on his head, only this time Doyoung is trying to pull him away. With his other hand, Sicheng peeps how desperately he's trying to get a hold of some papel towels, to which he frowns.

"No, no, on my face!"

Doyoung opens his eyes big, and shakes his head. 

"The make u- ugh!"

His words are cut as Sicheng takes him in his mouth again, and it doesn't take more than a few licks and his teeth once again to do the trick.

Sicheng smiles as he pulls him out and close to his face, eyes closed. 

Soon, thick threads of white start landing on his face, and the only warning sign he gets is the older's last groan. They land everywhere, on his nose bridge, on his high cheekbones, across his swollen lips. It's warm, it's slow, and it gives Sicheng a sort of satisfaction that he can't even explain to himself.  

Doyoung's warm hand pulls back his fringe, in a poor attempt to make less of a mess, but it's a bit fruitless, since almost his whole face is covered now. It starts dripping down slowly, almost tickling, and he hears a faint  _ oh my god _ as he licks some that had reached his lips.   
Once he can, he opens his eyes again and looks at his boyfriend, playful. He pats his own cheek with him, and gives one last lick. Doyoung scowls between raggedy breaths.

"Oh my God, just get up."

Sicheng giggles once again, "That was nice", as he helps him pull up his boxers and pants.

"I wonder if Taeil or Yuta hyung would still think you're that cute if they saw you like this."

"They'd think I'm even cuter", Sicheng takes the hand he offers to help himself up, "You're ungrateful".

Doyoung glares without malice and focuses on his face, still covered in his spunk. Sicheng shows him his tongue, suddenly feeling cheeky, and he ignores him as the older finally gets some papel towels, and starts cleaning his delicate face.

Sicheng closes his eyes, as he always does when he wants to enjoy a sensation, and leans in because his boyfriend is gentle even in moments like that, and it tugs his heartstrings. 

"There. Now wash your face."

Sicheng nods happily, he feels his energy still high, and does as he's told. Bended down the lavatory, he peeps Doyoung through the mirror, and he sees him checking out the contents he just cleaned.

"I know you don't like that make-up noona, but this is not cool, you know?", he scolds, before finally throwing it away. "They have to do your make up all again."

Sicheng turns, grabbing another towel that he was offering, and dries his face quickly.   
Then, he leans in to place a small Peck on Doyoung's pressed lips.

"I love you."

"Let's just go.", the older replies, but pecks him back, as he grabs his hand and guides them both out.   
  
  
"God, where were you two? You took ages!",

Taeyong greets them, more worried than angry.

"I needed the bathroom but it was busy, so I had to go to the ones in the last floor. Doyoung-hyung came with me because it was scary."

Doyoung can't even pretend to be surprised, knowing Sicheng he had probably invented that excuse as soon as that little twisted mind of his got the idea to give his boyfriend head right before going to the stage.

"He needs to get his make up retouched.", Doyoungs just says, as he let's himself fall on the couch, next to Johnny, who seemed to be very focused on the game on his phone. In the background Yuta offers to go with Sicheng and the younger accepts, happily, and they leave the room.

Doyoung looks around, still paranoid that anyone would suspect anything, until he finds Jaehyun's intense stare on him.

"Dude, on his face? Really?"

"W-what? How did you...?"

"I thought you out of all of us would be more professional than this..."

"Wait, no, I didn't want to-"

"Just... Just make sure to wipe your cum somewhere else next time you make him suck you off, okay?"

Doyoung groans and lets his face plant on the leather cushion. 

This is it. Sicheng just gained himself a week without sex.   
  
(Sicheng ends up riding him that same night at 3 a.m. Some decisions are hard to maintain.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Win-win is a power bottom pass it on  
> (who almost misses her bus stop because she was editing this at the bus at 6.30 am while getting to class? Not me ofc)


	6. this feeling, just as it is, just hold on (johnten)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten needs to stop jumping to conclussions. And maybe open his eyes.  
> (happy birthday iva, only ALMOST THREE WEEKS LATE.)
> 
>  
> 
> (johnten; 4390 words)  
> (slight angst, slight fluff, nsfw at the end; college!au)  
> (PS: i hope i did justice to johnten RIP)

 

 

It was ennerving.

He feels a hand diving towards his hip, its warmth makes him relax the slightest, and he hates it. It goes across until it’s in the middle of his stomach and he’s pulled into the owner. He looks up, ready to give Johnny a piece of his mind but then, the entire football team (dressed as… well, zombie football players) run across the way ten had been standing, laughing and yelling and being generally themselves in a way it reminds him of a pack of brainless animals.

He frowns, damn, he can’t complain now. He was being nice again.

Johnny chuckles from above him, because he’s in a great mood, because the whole Halloween party he helped organize is coming out great, because he’s Johnny and Johnny laughs at about most everything, and looks surprisingly lovely, instead of annoying, doing that. Ten thinks it’s not fair, he’s always considered his own laugh kind of annoying.

“They should have dressed up as buffaloes instead.”

“No shit.”, Ten replies, “now I know which side of the party I should stay away from.”

“Oh, don’t worry, they’ll mind a lady.” Johnny replies with mockery in his voice; he feels his hand caressing the soft velvet his dress is made of, and Ten starts pushing him away, “Wait, this feels nice.”

“You should have worn a dress, then, Tony the tiger.”, the shorter replies, finally wriggling out his embrace after letting him cop one more feel.

“Come on, Tennie, at least I didn’t come in that big suit…” Johnny turns half a step behind, and now he’s lying against the wall, arms crossed, thick lips twisted in a non-wicked smirk. Ten briefly wonders if it’s even possible for him to look anything other than gentle and stunning, as he eyes the dark spot that acts as his ‘nose’, and the way his hair falls over his forehead. He crosses his arms and faces him, feeling the dress, heavy, swirl around him.

“Yeah, cause I talked you out of it.”, Ten says, still looking at him with squinted eyes.

Johnny’s sharp eyes land directly on his, and they look like a mixture of amusement, fascination and… something else. Ten knows what it is, but he prefers not to think about it. Not tonight. Not ever. Not about his best friend.

(He still can’t help to notice the way the strobe reflect on his skin, red, green, red, green, the naked skin of his arms shining with slight sweat, the highlight he insisted on adding to his cheekbones making them stand out more than ever. Go, stop, go, stop.)

His hand extends, Johnny’s, towards him, and it lands on the locks of the wig he’s wearing, fingers threading between them just the slightest, running down.

“Why are you in such a bad m-“

But then, he gets interrupted by a voice; an out of breath, panicked and yet, awkwad voice.

“Hyung- Sorry, I-ah,”, it’s Dongyoung, and Ten raises his eyebrows at the sight of another boy latched onto his neck. He doesn’t need to see his face (it’s not like he can, either) to know it’s Sicheng, from Videogames Design, the short white wig kind of exposes him. “Do you know where- Is there a room…? Uh.”

Johnny laughs at him, and this time Ten joins, because the despair in Dongyoung’s face is way too funny. He’s probably mortified the entire party is seeing the dean’s perfect secretary wilding out. Ten thinks it was about goddamn time.

“Oh, I though no humans could touch Gin?”, Ten says, teasing, and the youngers only reply is grabbing his wig and throwing it on the floor, sweaty red hair now for everyone to see.

“Hyung-“, Dongyoung urges, and he sees Sicheng’s hand sneaking up inside his robe.

“Second floor, last door.” Johnny replies, and winks, “Nobody will go there.”

The younger nods and thanks and Ten’s eyes stay for a bit on the mess of limbs they are as Sicheng guides them upstairs, still not letting his mouth leave his neck. Ten clicks his tongue at them.

“Who would have said it, huh? Our Doyoungie getting some before either of us.”

The couple is gone, lost between the bodies and the low lights, and he turns towards Johnny once again, only to find his eyes stuck on him, lip stuck between his teeth. He lets go after less than a second, like getting out of a trance, and he replies:

“Yeah, I guess so.”

There’s a weird feeling settling in tens stomach, a feeling he knows all too well, that leaves him feeling suffocated, a feeling he avoids having around Johnny. He needs an escape right now, because he feels a thousand different things he could say to that, and he feels them hanging from his tongue… but he can’t risk it. not with his best friend. Not with Johnny.

He finds his way out in a fight that starts somewhere between the kitchen and the living room.

“I-I’ll go…”

“Go break it, pretty lady.” Johnny says, moving aside, and the mock is still there and ten still feels like punching him in the gut and kiss it off senseless. He rolls his eyes at him, instead, and runs.

 

After four more hours, three broken bottles that had to be collected, two other fights and a pole dance competition on the garden lantern (that Ten would have won if he hadn’t been wearing a dress), the party is over, kind of. Kind of meaning, there were still some people drunk off their ass here and there, and pretty sure there’s a bunch of people getting high in a room judging by the smell, but that’s as over as it’s going to be for the night, so Ten is with Yuta (who lost a bet) cleaning up the living-room. They were sneaky, calling dibs on this room first (because cleaning the kitchen is always akin to cleaning a street after a tornado and only god knows the state the bathroom might be), and so they are nearly finishing up, a tranquil silence chilling between them.

“So,”, Yuta starts, as he puts the last paper cup inside the trash bag, “you guys gonna fuck already or what?”

Ten is taken aback, but not sober enough yet to make a big deal out of it. “Who?”

“You and Johnny.”

At this, he snorts.

“Uh, when he stops being a het?”, he says, and it comes out a little more bitter than he intends. He looks up frowning, and finds Yuta’s tedious face, rolling his eyes at him. “What? You know it’s true. It’s not like I don’t have the hots for him.”

“Yeah, sure, it’s not like you give out confusing signals, either.”

Ten drops the cushion he’s holding. “Excuse me?”

“All I’m saying,”, Yuta says, as he grabs it from the floor, and puts it back to its place, “is that he has been giving you the biggest bedroom eyes ever the entire night, and the only thing you did was avoid him. As you always do, when you get drunk and get a little braver.”

Ten stays silent, fidgeting with the Halloween decoration he was about to put in a bag. It’s a plastic carved pumpkin, and he wishes the design was a bit more intricate so he could get distracted by it.

“I’m serious, dude. That little… sexual tension game whatever you guys have going on is getting too much. We’re all tired of you two playing cat and mouse.” he makes a pause, sighing, and it sounds almost frustrated “This isn’t like you.”

At this, Ten feels something like an anger growing inside it, except it’s like it’s covered by a thick layer of alcohol laze, so he can’t really act out the way he wants to. He doesn’t know if it’s out of shame or anger, that he suddenly finds himself whisper yelling.

 “And what do you want me to do, exactly, Yuta? Pin him to a bed? Make out with him and blame it on the alcohol? You know he’s fucking straight, why are you being like this?! You must be high if you think he was giving me the e-”

“I don’t, though.” the older says, crossing his arms, “I don’t know if he’s fucking straight. Do you?”

The shorter suddenly feels like he’s carrying twenty bricks on his shoulders, “What do you mean, Yuta?”, his voice comes out tired.

“Have you ever asked him? ‘Yes I like girls only’? ‘Yes, I’m heterosexual’, has he ever said that to you?”

Ten stays quiet, because he’s been caught.

“Or are you just assuming he doesn’t like men because he dated a couple of girls?”

A silence falls between them once again. Ten doesn’t want to admit it out loud, but Yuta is right. It’s embarrassing, because yes, he’s not usually like this. He’s never like this, in fact. This… careful. This cautious.

But damn, he really likes Johnny. As a friend, or as a lover. He loves him. Everything just seems so easy, so calm when it comes to him. He puts him at ease, like there’s no problem he can’t solve with his velvet voice. Like nothing can harm him if he has his gentleness to heal him. He makes him feel protected and at home, even when he has absolutely nothing similar to his actual homeplace. Even when he’s completely the opposite he’d usually feel attracted to, personality wise. 

 (And there’s something just so freeing about admitting that, even just inside his mind)

He won’t risk losing him. He just can’t.

In that moment, the rest of the ‘clean-team’ (leaded by Taeyong) walk in. Johnny walks right up to him, taking the pumpkin from his hands.

“Hey, can I stay over at your place? Doyoung, uh, said ours was gonna be busy.”

“Sure!”, Ten says, like he hadn’t been going through a storm of emotions seconds before. “Let’s go, Yuta and I are done for the night.”

He can feel the Japanese guy’s eyes burning holes on the back of his head, even as he closes the door behind him.

 

The trip home is silent.

It’s unusual for them to be silent like this, especially after a party. Most of the times, Ten is left with enough energy to comment on the fresh out of the oven gossip: she made out with him, he got himself knocked out and had to be sent home, their outfits were terrible, and on and on. Johnny was usually left with less energy than him, but never less enthusiastic, always listening and adding his two cents. Ten knew Johnny wasn’t big into gossips, but he humored him none the less; Ten paid it back by telling them in a way that he knew would make Johnny laugh.

Not tonight, though. Ten felt weird.

Actually, he felt like avoiding what he actually felt, but it’s easier to label it as weird.

Even through the long coat he had brought to hide the dress, and through the thick velvet of the dress, the shorter one could feel the temperature drop that the early hours of the day had brought. It was not enough to make him shiver; the dress was full length with long sleeves, he only really felt it on his nose and ears when the wind blew.

But his eyes catch movement next to him, and he turns just in time to see the older shivering, arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed. Of course, he had come only in that stupid orange wife-beater. Ten rolls his eyes, somehow he’s not surprised.

“Hey,” he says, “did you get all the ugly orange paint off?”

The older just hums in confirmation, lips pressed as if concentration would make the cold leave his body.

Ten sighs, and shrugs the coat off of his shoulders. It’s hard, because the coat is a cheap one and the fake velvet makes it more difficult for it to slide off, but once he does it, he pushes it on the older’s direction. Johnny crooks a brow at him.

“You’re gonna catch a cold…” Ten explains, with just a slight whine and a slight pout in his voice,  “Who will nurse my hangover tomorrow if you get sick?”

Ten commits the mistake, for the second time that night, of looking straight at him, and he finds his eyes. There’s a small smile in his lips, still pressed because of the cold, as he takes the coat and places it over his shoulders.

“Thank you”, he says, too formal, too sincere, too deep and ten is just too tired physically and emotionally to dive in and find the meaning behind it.

Ten shrugs, and looks ahead, trying to act like it’s nothing.

It takes them a bit longer, but they finally arrive to the apartment complex. As they enter the room, they start stripping off their costumes. Ten takes off the stupid long wig, leaving it hanging on the coat hanger; it looks almost scary, if it wasn’t because right next to it there’s Johnny’s initial Tony headpiece.

“I thought ladies were supposed to be given the coat, not to give.”, Johnny jokes, as he hands Ten the piece. Something boils inside Ten.

“God, will you stop that? I get it. I looked like a pretty hot girl. Couldn’t stop ogling at me the entire night”, he rolls his eyes.

“It’s not like I looked at you different than any other night, though.”

There’s a silence the billionth one of the night.

Ten finishes taking off the dress suddenly feeling exposed. There’s still the hint of the cold temperature brewing outside that makes the hair on his arms stand up, and he feels Johnny’s heavy stare behind him.

He doesn’t know what to do with this new information. He’s not sure if he understood it well at all.

“It’s not like I only think girls are hot. I like men too”, Johnny explains, and the air turns tenser. Thicker.

“Oh,” Ten says, as he desperately tries to find the proper way to reply to that, “I- why didn’t you tell me before? I didn’t know that.”

Johnny turns quiet for a few minutes, and then replies, “I-I guess I was kinda afraid you’d, uh, ask if I liked someone or something…”

Ten feels some sort of tension building up, and out of nervousness rather than actual humor, he laughs. His eyes stare into his phone’s screen as if they were magnetized, his fingers acting as if they were actually doing something. He doesn’t even remember picking the device. “Why?”

“You know I can’t lie if I’m asked directly. I’d have to answer it’s you.”

Ten freezes. And then he laughs again, again out of nervousness “Oh. Ha-ha.”

The awkwardness that falls between them feels as heavy as a sand blanket, and it’s asphyxiating him. Meanwhile, Johnny undresses in silence, putting on one of the spare shirts he has on Ten’s room.

Suddenly, Ten hears his laugh for the nth time of the night. This time it doesn’t sound quite as happy.

“So, I guess that’s a no from you, huh?”

Ten looks up at him, reserved and inquisitive. He suddenly feels like his flight instinct is on red alert.

“What?”

“I mean, you don’t like me then.”

A heartbeat. Two. Three.

“I do, though.”

 

“Oh.”

 

It takes his mind a few minutes to register what has just transpired, as he still looks at his lock screen.

Johnny just confessed to him.

Johnny.

Johnny Suh, his best friend, his crush, the man he lo-likes. Maybe the other l word was too much.

God, he said it so freely before, what’s wrong with it now?

(Everything is feeling too real)

And Ten confessed to him too.

Finally. Finally?

Ten suddenly sits up, eyebrows twisted in a frown.

 

 “You like me.”

“Yeah?”

“I like you too”

“Y-you said that, yeah.”

 

It takes ten a few more seconds before he finally is able to let out the final words. his heart beats like the bass in a club in his ears, and he almost can’t hear his own voice when he says:

“Then come kiss me, dumbass.”

 

The next thing he feels is bed sinking between his legs, and there’s Johnny, kneeling over him. He doesn’t have time to feel anything else but his lips, pressing, desperate, and his breath, just as erratic as his own. his mouth starts moving against him, matching him. he smiles as he feels one of his hands holding his jaw, the other one on his waist.

“Fuck-“, Johnny grunts, between kiss and kiss, sneaking some air in his lungs “Fuck. I’ve wanted this for so long. You have no idea.”

“Shut up”, ten says, but he laughs. he wasn’t going to admit he was exactly the same. “Fucking kiss me, Johnny.”

Johnny, nice as ever, complies, and the kiss deepens. He slips tongue in, and Ten moans, more from satisfaction rather than desire. God, he feels so good. His hand sliding up and up inside his shirt is moltening, and he can’t help to jerk at it, following the trace he makes. His own hands slide down from his hair that he just now notices he’s holding, down his neck, down his collarbones, down his clothed chest, and he wants to feel it all.

Johnny groans or moans or grunts, and Ten slides down and down, as he bears his own neck. Mark me, he means. Johnny knows him well, so he knows that. Soon, that mouth, those teeth he’s dreamed with for so long are finally, finally violenting his skin in real life. It’s Ten’s turn to moan, even though he’s tried to hold it for so long.

Johnny knows, so he laughs.

“Are you trying to act like you like me less?” he mutters, against his neck, only for his ears. For the first time, Ten blushes, “You want this as much as I do. I know it.”

Ten takes half a heartbeat to regain his composure.

“Then why didn’t you do it sooner?”

Ten feels the older sitting back, parting for the first time, and he instantly misses his heat. He’s looking at him with a smile that could be a smirk, and Ten takes a second to take him in. Hair disheveled, shirt messed up, chest rising and falling. Lips blooming red, so red and swollen. All his fault. He’s right out of his wet dreams.

“The wait makes it better.”, he shrugs, and it’s Ten’s turn to laugh. He has a million comebacks on the tip of his tongue but he swallows them. He doesn’t want to cut the heat of the moment.

“I’ve waited enough.” his hand goes to his shirt, and he pulls a little, maybe there’s a bit of a whine on his voice, “Come back here.”

Johnny dedicates him one last smile before sinking in again, and ten groans, as his mouth is violent against his again. Johnny kisses him rough, but he’s not desperate anymore, now he’s taking his time. He moves his mouth slowly, tongue licking into him almost languidly, ten is super aware of the warmth of his breath inside his mouth, filling him up, and he deepens the kiss because he wants more.

His hips roll against the older’s out of instinct, making him moan, rolling his own against him. Ten smirks in his mind; he’s as hard as he is.

“Ten,”, Johnny says, and there’s a slight urgency in it, “Ten. Ten!”

“What?”, he says, as he moves under his jaw, leaving pecks, love bites, licks, everything he can.

“How far you wanna go tonight?”

“All the way”, he replies, without thinking.

He feels Johnny’s hands stopping, and he pulls back.

“Are you sure?”

He looks preoccupied, those big chocolate eyes focused only on him.

“Yeah. Aren’t you?”

Johnny’s hand leaves his waist and lays on his cheek, instead. It makes something in Ten’s chest bloom, the way he holds him.

“I just… don’t wanna rush things.”, Johnny says, “I wanna enjoy you.”

The younger rolls his eyes, “Oh, come on-“

“I’m serious, Ten.”, Johnny continues, “We-we just confessed and we are drunk and-and I just. I just want to be in love with you for a bit. We can do the sexy stuff later, but now… I just don’t wanna rush things, you know?”

Any protest that Ten has, it dies on his tongue, as the older’s big eyes look worried, falling on their laps. He didn’t expect that. He… he doesn’t know how to handle that.

Feelings. Real feelings.

Ten swallows, as he looks at him, and he’s sure his eyes are like a deer on the headlights, and he realizes Johnny is giving him a choice.

Is this just now or is it forever?

He lets out a slow breath.

He wants forever. He really wants it, he’s always wanted it. Forever with Johnny, only with him. The sum of all of his hook-ups, boyfriends, anything, all of them are nothing next to him.

But he’s wanted this so badly.

How many nights did he spend dreaming of this? How many of his mornings did his mind torture him with images of Johnny like this, Johnny doing that, Johnny in every way? His brain was so filled with him that it was stupid.

But on the other hand… The look in the elder’s eyes made his stomach churn, and not in a sensual way. There were different feelings now. This was new, untamed territory not only for the elder but for him.

So he chooses.

“Fine”, he finally says, once again trying to find his coolness.

Johnny smiles at him, so warm and pure and affectionate that he can’t help to smile back at him. He caresses his face some more.

“Sorry,” he offers, and how can Ten reject that? He’s so stupidly weak for the man.  “We can cuddle, though?”

Ten sighs dramatically, making a show of rolling his eyes, “Fine, boyfriend.”

He doesn’t see Johnny’s reaction at the word, because he’s busy getting inside his covers, but he doesn’t need it. He can feel him radiating from behind him.

“Wait, go turn off the light before getting inside!”, Ten quickly adds, as he turns his phone off. He wasn’t planning on waking up early.

“Okay, boyfriend.”

“Hurry up, boyfriend, I’m fuckin’ sleepy.”

“On it, boyfriend!”, Johnny sounds too giggly for someone who’s about to sleep, but Ten’s not gonna blame him. He feels about the same. “God, it feels so good.”, he adds, and ten suspects he’s mumbling to himself again.

He feels the covers moving, as he’s facing the wall, and the bed sinks once again making him roll a bit. He’s about to let a protest noise, when he feels arms, big, strong warm arms wrapping him. He feels so safe. He feels so free, between them.

“Goodnight, boyfriend.”, Johnny mutters into his ear, as he snuggles closer.  He feels the corner of his lips lift up.

 

“Goodnight, boyfriend.”

 

 

 

 

 

 He hisses, as his hips start moving more aggressively, back and forth, back and forth, almost in a rhythm. It increases, he’s chasing it, and Johnny underneath him can feel it, as he can feel himself too, about to come.

“Oh shit, oh shit”, Ten feels his own voice pitching, he’s so close, “Johnny, shit, I’m-“

He feels his big hands suddenly enclosing his hips, keeping them, him, static, and before he can complain, the older starts moving, fucking into him, keeping his rhythm. Keeping his rhythm? No, increasing it.

Ten lets all of his weight just on one of his arms, while the other hand goes to his own erection, starting to-

“Oh FUCK-“

“Shit- I’m sorry, WE’RE SORRY-”, and a door slam echoes.

The shorter only rolls his eyes, he hadn’t even heard the door open, but he clearly had recognized Yuta and Doyoung’s voice. His eyes fall to his boyfriend underneath him, and he sees him struggling not to laugh, biting his lips, his hips starting to lose pace.

 “Don’t stop”, he commands, “Fuck, Johnny, don’t stop-”

“I-I won’t-”

Ten struggles to move his own hips against Johnny’s grip, but he’s strong, so strong, and he catches onto him. Ten feels his body being  pushed to the side, and before he knows it, he has one of his legs hoisted up against a big shoulder, and the other one being held down, firmly against the mattress, and oh god, he can feel all of him inside him like this so well.

_“I told you they were-“_

_“How could I believe you?! I thought Ten would never-“_

Ten tries to shout an insult, but Johnny hits a spot, and it comes out as a loud moan instead, fingers curling between his sheets. He hears his dumbass friends outside going silent. This encourages his boyfriend, it seems, because he’s back to his aggressive pace, going almost all the way out and slamming himself in, abusing his spot and oh, god, Ten feels like- Ten is about to-

_“I-I think we should go…”_

_“Yeah…”_

It takes Johnny no more than a couple thrusts before he’s coming in a loud, long moan, white warmness messing his own stomach, all the way to his chest.  He feels Johnny coming right after, hips stuttering into him, only being able to let a low insult leave his lips before he’s falling down, against his chest, still inside him.

“Fuck-“, he mumbles, Ten feels both of their chests rising and falling against each other, ”Fuck, that was good.”

Ten is breathless, speechless for a few seconds, until he hears a weird shuffling coming from the outside.

“Are you fucktards still outside!?”

_“Yeah, we’re sorry! We just wanted to congratulate you!”_

_“Yeah dudes! Congrats on love!”_

_“Wait what if they are just fucking?”_

_“Don’t be ridiculous, Doyoung.”_

“You guys fucking LEAVE!”, Johnny laughs over him, still too tired to do anything else, as Ten yells back.

A chorus of apologies is heard, and after a few seconds, the lift’s sound, telling them it’s there. He hears a couple of ‘bye’s’, and the door closes, effectively leaving with them.

 “We need new friends.”

“You know what? I think we’re good.”

Johnny chuckles, and he feels the rumble on his chest, and he allows himself to smile.

 

 “Yeah, I think we are.”


End file.
